


am i the only one who didn't know i'm an idiot? (regina, don't answer that)

by red_streaks



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/F, there is very little shame for this fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-09
Updated: 2015-09-09
Packaged: 2018-04-19 21:45:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4762112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/red_streaks/pseuds/red_streaks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Emma Swan, are you admitting you have feelings for me?” And oh man, is she fucked. </p><p>“What?” She jumps to her feet, staring at an amused Regina. “No, tha- that’s dumb! You- you’re dumb!” </p><p>Regina stares at her with wide eyes, trying hard not to laugh.</p><p>“Maybe you have feelings for me! Yeah! Snooze on that, Your Majesty!”</p><p>And she fucking runs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	am i the only one who didn't know i'm an idiot? (regina, don't answer that)

**Author's Note:**

> i dont even know. this sprouted from watching the emperor's new groove again so be warned  
> A N Y W A Y S 
> 
> thanks for reading!!

Emma Swan is having a fuck awful day.

 

As usual it’s Regina’s fault and she wants to cut the brunette’s head off and hang it above the mantle in the loft while drinking cider, cackling madly while wearing Regina’s stupid expensive silk shirt.

 

Technically, Regina didn’t actually _do_ anything other than like, exist, but still, Emma’s entire bad day can totally and completely be blamed on the Mayor.

 

It starts with a dream, because she lives in a god damn fairytale town and what _doesn’t_ start with a dream or a kiss that awakens someone from a sleeping curse, or what song doesn’t have a freakin verse on sleeping?

 

Whatever.

 

It starts with a dream and Emma really thinks that she needs to book an appointment with Archie because this is by far the strangest dream she’s had of the Mayor. Not that she has a lot of dreams with her in it, not really. Just some where Regina smiles pleasantly at her and hands her a bear claw, sits close enough that she can smell her perfume and places a totally friendly kiss on her cheek. 

 

It’s cool, because they’re just friends, except Emma likes to stare at Regina’s lips a little too much and sometimes she hands her presents like, _hey I saw these earrings on sale and I think they kinda match that scarf Henry gave you?_

 

It’s _normal_ though, so why she has this dream is beyond her, like she never even saw it coming, really. Maybe she ate too many of Regina’s baked cookies the night before, _who knows_.

 

The point is that she had a completely platonic, normal, socially acceptable wet dream about Regina. And it’s fine, because Emma’s never said no to women before, and Regina was actually quite skilled in the dream, and maybe Emma enjoyed it for reasons other than lusty attraction, but-

 

She forgets what her point is.

 

Bottom line is that she can’t keep having dreams like this, not if she wants to look Regina in the chest- face, and not if she wants to keep enjoying their tentative friendship.

 

So she chalks it up to eating too much sugar before bed and tries to go back to sleep before her shift.

 

Except she can’t stop feeling Regina’s phantom touch on her neck, or stop picturing a dark head of hair in between her legs and how disappointing it is that it was simply a dream. Once five a.m. hits around she gives up completely and practically flings herself from the apartment, thinking a morning run might brighten up her day.

 

And it starts out nice, the rhythm of her feet hitting the concrete clearing her head and she thanks Regina’s clever planning because nobody in this sleepy town is up before seven a.m, including the Sheriff. 

Except, of course, the fucking Mayor.

 

“Emma!” Regina cries as she catches her by the elbow, preventing them both from toppling over.

 

“Regina, _heeey_ ,” she says like a total idiot because the brunette’s hands are on her and she’s standing a bit too close to her and she practically collided with her just a second ago.

 

She’s panting a little because she had a decent pace before she rounded the corner and assaulted Regina.

 

“Good morning, dear.” She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and looks down, uncharacteristically shy. “How are you?”

 

And Emma is staring openly because Regina’s wearing what can only be called the most casual outfit she’s ever seen. Dark jeans coupled with a deep red cardigan buttoned up nicely to protect her against the chilly spring air. 

 

“Uuh, good, now that you’re here,” she stutters out, her lousy mouth betraying her.

 

Regina’s eyes twinkle in the morning air and the corners of her lips lift.

 

_Shit._

 

“Really? How so, dear?”

 

“Um-“ _I’m starting to think I may be like, maybe 2% in love with you?_ “I only meant that like, it’s always good to see you because you’re always so _sunny_ and _bright_ , really you’ve come a long way from trying to poison me daily, which is _awesome_ because I love your cooking and also not dying,” Regina’s eyebrows are rising higher and higher with each word and Emma decides to backtrack “but uh- I’m good now that you’re here because I um- wanted to talk to you about something?”

 

She ends lamely and really, it sound more like a question than a statement and Emma knows that she’s completely and totally toast because Regina Mills is smiling amusingly at her and she has very little make-up on and _oh god_ , does she really not platonically want to kiss her right now.

 

“Well, I’m flattered that I have such an influence on your moods, Sheriff,” Emma squeaks a little at the use of the title, remnants of her dream creeping to the front of he mind. “-I was just going to sit by the docks and wait for the sunrise, if you’d like to join me and discuss whatever has been ailing you?”

 

Emma nods too enthusiastically and follows behind, trailing her like a lost puppy. A clearly infatuated puppy, she corrects, as she thinks fondly of the last time they were at these benches, assessing each other as threats.

 

It’s different though, now they’re sitting on the same bench (progress!) and Regina dresses with lighter colors now, letting her hair fall close to her shoulders. 

The sun doesn’t rise for another couple of minutes, and Emma wonders how the Mayor fell into the habit of waking up before the sunrise. 

 

“Do you do this often?” She asks after they’ve settled in. Emma sits a little off from the middle, giving Regina enough space for her to sit further from her. It surprises her then, when Regina’s shoulders graze against hers as the brunette breathes deeply. 

 

“Yes, whenever Henry spends the night elsewhere.” 

 

Emma shifts guiltily because although she knows Henry loves spending the week with her and then alternating, she knows how lonely the week after he leaves can be, especially if there’s nobody around the house to distract her. 

 

“But that’s not why we’re here to talk about, is it?” Regina bumps shoulders with her and her brain short-circuits because this Regina, the Regina with no make-up and the soft smiles, and the sunrise watcher, is something that didn’t show up in Emma’s dream and she’s so glad she’s witnessing first hand.

 

“Right,” she says and tries to come up with a viable excuse as to why she needed to talk to Regina. “Did you um- get a look at those papers I sent you?”

 

She’s sent plenty of papers to the Mayor’s office lately, something Regina knows because her brow furrows and she sends an odd look from the corner of her eye.

 

“Which papers?”

 

“Uh, all- all of them?”

 

“Yes, I went through them last morning. Perfectly adequate paperwork, Sheriff.”

 

“Whew!” Emma laughs a little and Regina frowns deeper.

 

“That’s what you wished to talk about?” She sounds more than a little disappointed and Emma can’t figure out why.

 

“Yup,” she pops her lips obnoxiously, “nothing else I needed to tell you.”

 

_Except that maybe, like, JUST maybe, I really want to kiss you._

 

“You’re acting odder than usual.” Regina turns to her. “Is somebody giving you trouble at home? I hope that’s not why you left Henry alone so early.”

 

“What?”

 

“Well, there’s only one reason why you’d be up so early. Two, if you count Granny’s pancake stack, but usually you'd only be up and running if somebody at home were giving you a hard time.” Regina tilts her head an regards her curiously. 

 

She remembers mornings where she’s run off to the Mayor’s house, stopping by in the guise of dropping off a book that isn’t really Henry’s just to get away from a nagging Mary Margaret.

 

“Oh. No, my parents have been okay. Mostly.” 

 

“Hook, then? Did you leave your pirate in bed to run?” Regina’s face grows solemn then, her eyes glittering dangerously, and even then Emma is left with a stuttering gasp at how easily _talking_ comes to them.

 

“Ew, no!” comes out of her mouth faster than she can think.

 

Regina’s eyebrows practically disappear into her hairline and Emma realizes her mistake. 

 

“Hmm, I do wonder if what attracted you to him has worn off.” The brunette’s gaze leaves Emma’s to face the water in front of them.

 

“I mean, I guess. He’s not really my pirate, and no,” she turns to glare at Regina, “I didn’t leave him in my bed, in the house _our_ son is sleeping in.” 

 

Emma shudders before she continues, “And I dunno, I guess the whole brooding brunette with the leather kinda did it for me, you know? At least at first, but _god_ , did he smell like my car did when I left it in the sun too long.”

 

“Why, Sheriff” Regina turns back to her, mirth glittering in her chocolate eyes, “are you saying I could ‘do it for you’ as well?”

 

“ _What?”_ Emma shrieks loudly, spinning in her place to face Regina completely, who’s staring smugly at her. “N-no! Not that you’re not attractive, because you _are,_ and um- yeah, just no.”

 

“Oh, dear. You can just admit it.” Regina purrs.

 

“I mean, you do look good in leather, because I saw you in your Evil Queen garb-“

 

“Of course.” She nods knowingly.

 

“And then that one time with the Spell of Shattered Sight-“

 

“Certainly.”

 

“And you did brood for a really long time, like a ridiculously long time- I remember I couldn’t even say hi without you threatening to run me over with you ca-“

 

“It was justified,” Regina sniffs.

 

“And you _are_ a brunette, a really pretty brunette who wears really beautiful colors like that one coat you wore to Neal’s funeral that kinda reminded me of Yzma-

 

“I wore it better, obviously.”

 

“But like, that doesn’t automatically mean you’d do it for me, because it’s more than just a physical attraction, it goes be-“

 

“Emma Swan, are you admitting you have feelings for me?” And oh man, is she fucked. 

 

“What?” She jumps to her feet, staring at an amused Regina. “No, tha- that’s _dumb_! You- _you’re_ dumb!” 

 

Regina stares at her with wide eyes, trying hard not to laugh.

 

“Maybe _you_ have feelings for _me_! Yeah! Snooze on that, Your Majesty!”

 

And she fucking runs. 

 

*

 

It doesn’t get better after that. She runs home to sleep and shower, and she’s so shaken by the fact that Regina Mills almost made her (if she hasn’t already) admit her weird infatuation with the broody queen, that she drops her contacts on the floor and steps on them out of frustration. 

 

She comes downstairs with her thick glasses, cursing and kicking at the steps and Mary Margaret hides her toaster behind the refrigerator. 

 

Henry gives her a cup of coffee and after a quick kiss, leaves for school. She sits down roughly, head slamming into the counter.

 

David clears his throat and pets her head awkwardly.

 

“Everything okay, kiddo?” He means well, she knows he does, but god does she want to punch him in the face.

 

“No, everything sucks and I want to die. Kill me and frame Regina.”

 

“Awe, come on. We’re messier than her, nobody would believe us.” David chuckles and it works, because she sits up and takes a sip of the coffee.

 

It’s burning hot, obviously, but she’s an idiot and it burns her tongue.

 

Mary Margaret hands her a glass of water as she stares sympathetically at her. “Hook came by while you were in the shower.”

 

Her head slams right back down to the counter.

 

“Said Regina sent him flowers and wanted us to make sure they weren’t ‘bewitched.’ Do you have any idea why she might’ve done that?”

 

“No,” comes the muffled reply, “Regina’s just weird like that.” She really doesn’t know why Regina would send her least favorite pirate flowers, especially after the conversation they just had.

 

“But that’s why you like her.”

 

Emma’s head snaps up and she glares so fiercely at David that he actually takes a step back.

 

“No, I don’t _like_ her. What, are we back in fifth grade?” She chugs the coffee still sitting beside her for a distraction and curses every foul word she knows when it sets a trail of fire down her throat.

 

“Oh, Emma.” Mary Margaret shakes her head.

 

“I don’t have feelings for her, _god_!” Emma whines, making her way out the door, wiping at her sore tongue.

 

“We never said-“

 

“And even if I did, nothing would ever happen because she’s not finding out!”

 

There’s a pause and god, is Emma slowly realizing Regina might have been on to something when she called her an idiot.

 

“So, you _do_ have feelings for Regina?” David questions, his head tilting to the side in confusion.

 

Mary Margaret clamps a hand over David’s mouth and Emma groans so loud and so fiercely that it grates on her throat. The door slams behind her with force and she makes her way angrily to her car.

 

Except it doesn’t start and the sky opens up, soaking her completely as she stomps her way to the station.

 

She’s having the shittiest day, and it hasn’t even hit nine o’ clock yet. Her hair curls awkwardly around her face and she feels like she’s thirteen again, clunky glasses and frizzy hair before she discovered the wonders of straighteners.

 

She ends up chasing a cold Pongo in the rain, slipping on mud and dirtying her leather jacket and okay, it’s the worst day ever and she wants to wring her hands around Regina’s admittedly lovely neck. 

 

Twenty-three angry phone calls later from town residents complaining, she’s making her way back to the apartment, hoping she can find something to eat. 

 

She finds Regina leaning against the counter instead, chatting with David as if they’re _friends,_ and Emma wants to choke on air at the thought. She can only see her back, with her pencil skirt and matching blazer and she already knows that Regina needs to leave soon if she doesn’t want to see a tongue-tied Emma.

 

“Hey, Emma!” David waves as she closes the door and Regina turns around and smiles so painfully shy Emma almost doesn’t notice the shirt she’s wearing. 

 

Almost. 

 

It’s nothing special, just an expensive, probably, white shirt that’s straining on a button and man, does Emma lose her bearings for a while.

 

Regina turns fully and says something, except Emma doesn’t listen because she’s staring too hard at the top button of her shirt, her mouth suddenly dry.

 

“Um- what?” she says after Regina calls her name twice.

 

“I said, Henry invited me for dinner. I hope that’s alright.”

 

“Yeah, go ahead and take what little dignity I have left, too,” she mumbles but it’s drowned out by Henry’s yelling.

 

“I’m going to do homework before dinner! Hi, Ma!” comes from the upstairs, as well as several thuds. 

 

Regina clears her throat, and goes to wash her hands on the sink while David goes upstairs.

 

“I didn’t know you wore glasses.” She looks over her shoulder as the water runs from her hands, and Emma sits at the counter, already losing a battle that hasn’t begun.

 

“Yeah,” she adjusts them on her nose, the loose frames sliding down and fiddles with the napkins laying around.

 

“Since when?” Regina dries her hands and makes her way to the opposite side of the counter, leaning on her elbows. Her shirt strains even further and Emma stares at the ceiling.

 

“Uh- I dunno. Sixteen, seventeen?” 

 

Regina surprises her by chuckling and shaking her head. “I would’ve loved to see that.”

 

An easy smile appears on Emma’s face and her shoulders finally relax. “No, you wouldn’t. I was all black clothes and too much eye liner.” She stares at Regina a little before saying, “Much like you, actually.”

 

Regina mock scowls and laughs richly, the noise reverberating low in Emma’s stomach. “I like to think I was much more skilled at the art of eyeliner than the handless creep.” 

 

She’s about to ask why she sent Hook flowers, roses nonetheless, when Regina leans further into the counter, probably on her tip toes now, and reaches out to drag Emma’s glasses up her nose again. She’s not so close, not the closest she’s been but she’s staring fondly at Emma and it’s doing weird things to the stupid butterflies taking residence in her stomach. 

 

“Do you always stand so close to your friends?” she blurts out and immediately regrets it when Regina retreats her hand.

 

“Oh, we’re _friends_?”

 

“Duh.”

 

“And what kind of things are acceptable for friends to do? Stare at each other’s chest?” She points at her shirt and stares smugly at a gaping Emma.

 

“Well,” she tries to recover, “yeah, if that friend only wears shirts she bought in the children’s section!”

 

“I shop in the petite’s section, dear.” Regina looks comically affronted, her eyes wide and offended.

 

“Well you shouldn’t because your boobs aren’t petite!” She shoves away from the counter and goes to the door, only noticing her parents at the foot of the stair, innocently caught red-handed. “It’s distracting, wear turtlenecks, or a fucking potato sack!”

 

She storms out but not before she hears Mary Margaret whisper, “what are they fighting about?”

 

“Boobs, apparently.”

 

“Hmmm.”

 

*

 

She sits by the docks, the sun setting low already and wants to plunge head first into the dark waters. 

 

she feels like a fool, overreacting to pointless banter and innocent curiosity, but she’s so terrified of what it means to have feelings for Regina Mills that she can’t even begin discussing it with anybody yet. 

 

Emma wants to give Regina warm hugs and maybe stop pretending she only likes her company because of Henry, she wants to admit that she’d much rather spend time with her than any other being clad in leather. The desire to admit this has her feeling nervous and queasy around Regina and she can’t imagine continue seeing her in case she ruins their friendship.

 

The sound of footsteps echoing against the floorboards makes her groan and seriously wish she could to the poofy thingy Regina seemed to master.

 

Regina sits cautiously next to her, too close to be friendly and Emma sighs as their shoulders brush again.

 

“What did you eat for lunch?” is not what she expects to come out of the brunette’s mouth so she answers truthfully.

 

“Ten Jolly Ranchers.” 

 

Regina snorts uncharacteristically loud and hands her a tupperware full of warm food. She tries, she really does try, but she can’t help her curiosity or hunger so she takes the offered food and dumps it on her lap. It’s meatballs and spaghetti and Emma is so grateful she forgets why she was mad.

 

There’s a lot of slurping noises as she eats but Regina doesn’t say anything, merely sits next to her and watches her eat.

 

“May I be frank with you?” Regina says once Emma’s done.

 

“I thought you were Regina?”

 

The brunettes’ lips thin out and Emma’s shrugs, unmoved.

 

“I believe I know what has you running from me.”

 

Emma chokes on air and pushes her glasses to the top of her head. Regina pouts a little, and reaches out, placing them back on her nose. After Emma’s quizzical look, the brunette looks at her hands and mumbles almost inaudibly,

 

“You look rather… _nice_ with them on.”

 

And Emma’s stomach completely plummets because she’s so head over heels for this woman, it’s ridiculous. She should have seen the signs earlier, because the intensity of what she’s feelings didn’t just happen from one effin dream. 

She throws her head back and groans for a long moment before she turns to Regina. Tentative friendship be damned, she thinks, because Regina already knows she’s crushing hard and stupidly, like a middle schooler with too much Axe on.

 

“Look, Regina,” she runs a hand through her hair, “I know I’ve been all weird, and I’m sorry if it’s confused you or made you angry, but I’m pretty sure that’s how it’s going to be from like, now on and forever. Because I figured out something and I don’t know what to do with that information, you know?”

 

Regina’s still looking at her hands but she lifts her eyes and raises her chin at her words. 

 

“Of course,” she offers, her eyes dim and sad.

 

“And I’m sorry that it’s going to affect you, because I’m sure this isn’t what you wanted for me but maybe I should just stay on my lane for a while until… you know, I’m not so embarrassed.”

 

Regina’s eyes flash with something, indignant or sorrowful, she’s not sure, but suddenly she’s smiling wickedly fake, and Emma’s swallows with difficulty.

 

“We wouldn’t want you to be embarrassed about a silly little feeling, dear.”

 

“Well, I wouldn’t call it silly, but than-“

 

“Oh no, don’t backtrack now for my comfort. It’s quite alright, I’m sure I can find somebody much less spineless that wouldn’t be embarrassed by me.”

 

“Wha-? I’m not embarrassed by you, you’re embarrassed by me!”

 

Regina turns angrily at her, and nearly spits in her face with how close they are. “I think my advances say otherwise, Miss Swan.”

 

And shit, they’re back to the whole Miss Swan thing, and it would be hot if Regina weren’t staring at her with murder in her eyes and she suddenly regrets not telling Henry where she is.

 

Advances?

 

_Advances?_

 

Whatever frightened and aroused feeling she was going through completely leaves her as she realizes what Regina’s said.

 

“You- _what_?” Emma sputters and Regina pokes her in the shoulder.

 

“You know very well what I mean. I thought you were bidding your time, but it seems you were just wasting mine!” She pokes her again, a little more forcefully this time and Emma stares at her with her mouth wide open.

 

“You- you want me?!”

 

Regina scoffs and pokes her again, this time with two fingers. “Yes, you _idiot_. That’s what you’re embarrassed about!” she growls and pokes her of the fucking fifteenth time. 

 

“Ow! Could you maybe take your fucking fin-“

 

“And what’s worse is that you made a fool of me! Thinking I was finally winning you over, but no! You just realized the Evil Queen had feelings for you and decided to, what? Run? Very predictable, dear.”

 

“First of all, you’re not the Evil Quee-“

 

“And there I was, playing happy family with the _Charmings_ so you could laugh at my face and-“

 

“You have feelings for me?” Her brain catches up with what Regina’s been saying this whole time and when the brunette glares at her, Emma begins laughing hysterically until her left eye is is spilling tears.

 

“Oh, my god- Oh, god,” she manages to huff out and Regina looks truly hurt at that moment and Emma freezes. The brunette is standing up now, throwing daggers at her with her eyes so Emma does the only thing she can think of.

 

She hauls herself up and hugs the Mayor.

 

“Get _off_ me, you insufferable oaf, you meddling, uncouth peasant!” She squirms in Emma’s arms but doesn’t make much effort to get out of the blonde’s loose embrace.

 

“I’m actually royalty andjust shut up for a second because I’m _trying_ to tell you something, Your Majesty..” 

 

Regina huffs and stares down at her, disbelieving and royally pissed but she remains in the embrace.

 

“May I?” Emma raises her arms as indication and when the brunette rolls her eyes and huffs, she takes is for what it is and hugs the Mayor tightly again. 

 

“What are you doing, Emma?” Regina whispers.

 

“I’m- well, to be honest I’m enjoying how you feel pressed against me, but mainly I’m thinking I should have been an idiot months ago.”

 

‘And what- laughed at me for admitting my feelings long before today?” Regina squirms again and Emma holds on tighter, pressing her lips against the brunette’s neck.

 

“No,” she mumbles, “I should have realized I loved you a long time ago.” She didn’t mean to say _love_ , except she kinda did because it comes out her mouth so easily and without stuttering that Regina actually disentangles herself from her and looks at her.

 

“ _What_?”

 

“Shit.”

 

“You- you _idiot_.”

 

“He he, I meant that like, I’m like-“

 

The rest is cut off as Regina brings her mouth down on Emma’s, and the blonde wastes no time in reciprocating, darting her tongue out to swipe gently at Regina’s lower lip.

 

“You idiot.” Regina mumbles against her lips as she draws her closer, grabbing a fistful of her jacket and pressing her body against Emma’s. “You absolute, perfect idiot.” 

 

She says something else after that but Emma’s distracted when she finds Regina’s tongue tentatively swiping at her lips, nibbling so softly Emma thinks she might implode and when she opens her mouth greedily and Regina’s warm tongue slides against hers, she honest to god sees colors behind her eyelids.

 

Like in a fucking fairytale. 

 

They stay like tat for a long time, locked in a messy make-out session that rivals the ones she had as a teenager and she feels so light headed and dizzy that she has to stop and press her forehead against Regina’s, breathing hard.

 

“You’re serious, Emma?” Regina pants, “You’re not just making a fool of me again?”

 

Emma looks up at her then, and gently caress her cheek until her thumb swiped at Regina’s lower lips and she looks so open then, so vulnerable and lovely that Emma only repeats what she’s already said.

 

“I love you. God help me, because I became a perverted forty year old around you when I realized I did, but I do love you.”

 

And Regina gasps.

 

It’s not the most heart felt of admissions, she thinks she might have fucked up actually because comparing herself to a pervert isn’t the best way to admit her love to the queen, but Regina seems close to tears so she thinks she might have done better than she thought. 

 

“Good, because you’re mine.” Regina says softly, without possessiveness and Emma’s heart takes flight within her chest where it was bruising her ribs with how fast it was beating.

 

“Yours,” she repeats against Regina’s forehead, looking straight into the brunettes gleaming eyes, and she forgets about pirates and flowers and her parents knowing smirks and thinks that she might not be having such a fuck awful day after all. 

 


End file.
